The story of captain Goldbeard and the Undead Stalázo

Last night I had the most vivid dream ever, I had to write it down in a short-story.

I was part of the crew of an 18th century pirate ship. When this journey started our captain was a strong, young Greek, whose name was a mystery, we just called him Kapetánios. It was only after many legendary plunderings that he became known as Goldbeard, and he hated that name. Although at first he didn't have a beard, and certainly not a gold one, he was Greek and had black hair. Eventually he did grow a beard, I think to prove it wasn't gold. The reason he became known as Goldbeard was because he was most successful in acquiring a lot of gold. But that was never his real intention.

Kapetánios had one goal, collecting the rarest alcoholic beverages in the world. He would somehow always know what ship was carrying the most precious wines and liquors. They also carried a lot of gold and other valuable goods but to him that was just a bonus and a way to pay his men. We sailed the seas for many years and plundered all kinds of ships; Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, English, even Chinese. Goldbeard had hideouts all over the world, his wealth was unimaginably large and he himself probably didn't even remember all the places he had hidden his treasures. But if the loot contained some of the liquor he was after, he had to keep at least one bottle of it, on his flagship.

This was a problem, there was never enough space in the haul. Sometimes we had to keep loot tied up on the upper deck until we reached a safe haven. On our journey we changed ship a few times. Goldbeard always wanted a bigger one. And near the end of our journey we were sailing a large galleon we managed to steal from the Portuguese fleet, Kapetánios named it Stalázo. It had three decks and he had it stuffed with rare liquors and wines from all over the world. Yet no one ever saw him drunk.

His obsession became the downfall. The Stalázo had a lot of firepower with it's sixty-eight cannons, but it wasn't as agile as the brigs and frigates we used to sail successfully. And to make room for even more bottles, casks and eventual new booty he removed some of the cannons. However Kapetánios had his own fleet for a little while, with two frigates and one old brig that served as scouts and protectors for the Stalázo. But it didn't take long before the crews turned against Goldbeard after he had sacrificed the brig and it's entire crew to enter a Dutch East Indiaman that had only spices on board and six bottles of ancient Indian spirit. The crews of the remaining frigates took off with the spices.

It was said that one of these bottles was three-thousand years old. The makers of this bottle were the first people to make strong liquor and the first people to make war. A very powerful Brahman had cursed this bottle, so that it would never be opened again. We heard Kapetánios speak about this legend spirit a few times, but we didn't really believe the story.
After we entered the East Indiaman the crew of the Stalázo remained loyal to Goldbeard even without any valuable loot, I think we were all just curious about the ancient liquor. When Kapetánios returned to the Stalázo with the crate of bottles he had a strange blue glow around him. He said that the disloyal dogs who left with his old ships were dumb fools, they didn't know the power of the ancient spirit we just looted. We would set sail for an uncharted area south of The Americas.

When the burning remains of the East Indiaman were out of sight, Kapetánios said we could all drink whatever we'd like. We couldn't believe our ears, we were never allowed to drink from his stuff, he would brutally kill anyone who'd dare drink even one drop of his precious liquor. There were special caskets for the crew to drink, not that it was bad, we always drank high quality, but his spirits were something else. Kapetánios retreated to his cabin with the ancient bottles. And we made some jokes about how the ancient liquor may have turned into vinegar, while we were lavishing on the finest liquors known to mankind. Little did we know about what would unfold that night.

I was already getting very drunk when all of a sudden we all heard the sound of a bottle uncorking. A sound that had obviously repeated many times throughout the night, but this time it was so loud, like a giant bottle uncorking, in a mountain valley, it was deafening loud. It was so unnatural loud that some men were fear-stricken and fell down covering their ears. What followed is almost indescribable. The even louder sound of a giant swallowing big gulps of fluid. And with the sound of every gulp I felt myself getting more and more drunk than I already was. The sky turned pink, purple and green. The ship got every color of the rainbow. And I couldn't tell what was up or down. I saw Kapetánios come on deck, he had a shining blue bottle in his hand, it was blinding and he had an awful insane expression on his face, and the same blue shine in his eyes and around him. Then I saw him and some of the men turn in to stone.

It appeared as if the Stalázo sank to the bottom of the Indian Ocean, although nobody was drowning. A purple haze surrounded the ship. The fear and confusion turned into euphoria and I felt as light as a feather. Beside the few men who turned in to stone all the other men on the ship seemed fine and were laughing and dancing. We kept drinking the endless supply of liquor on the ship, and we remained drunk and euphoric for I couldn't tell how long. We kept laughing and making dumb sailor jokes for weeks or months, there were even women on the ship now. We danced the Hasapiko, a tradition under Kapetánios and when we did, the young beardless Kapetánios was seen dancing among us. The purple haze kept surrounding the ship, and at times it was hard to tell if we were above or below the water, but the ship was on course and at top speed.

The stoned men were like ordinary statues, the heroes of our hazy paradise. We sometimes danced around them or told them jokes. But when the supply of liquor started to diminish, the euphoric drunk, that was going on for what seemed months or maybe years, started to turn in to a mad rage. Some of the stoned men got smashed in to peaces and were mocked, spit and urinated upon. The ghostly women were raped and the men started fighting. The hazy paradise that was the Undead Stalázo, turned in to a hazy hell. Even the stoned Kapetánios was being mocked.

When the last casks on the ship were opened, the statue of Kapétanios was decapitated. His eyes started shining blue again, and the rage in the men made place for fear. The blue shining ancient bottle was still on the deck and when the last drop had dripped out of every bottle and cask on the ship, the undead men turned their eyes to the ancient bottle. Time slowed down and it took ages for the first man to hopelessly reach for the still half full ancient bottle. When the first drop touched the lip of what looked like a corpse of a man, the decapitated head came to live and grew in size, the eyes started shining red. The haze around the ship also turned into a hellish red, all the men including me became filled with an agonizing fear. The giant stone head of Goldbeard flew around and started smashing the men to pulp while it kept yelling: "LOATHE, LOATHE, LOATHE!"

That's when I woke up soaked in sweat, whispering: "Goldbeard, Goldbeard...."

Image sources (1, 2, 3, 4)